tears

The time, life or just a phase
Which I never thought to live
But I’m now forced to live
The pain and the tears I got
Is unexplainable to anyone
But I kept breathing
I kept the smile on
I kept bearing it
I want to let go of these feelings
I want to forget the pain
I want to do whatever I can
To go back to my normal phase
I know you cared for me
But the care sometimes
Sometimes I feel myself a burden
I want me to be treated normal
I know that I’m a patient
And I have to wait till I recover
But whatever it is,I’ll try hard
To be back, recovered!

These words are the product of my carelessness. Had a slip and broke my bone. Now, sitting idle and restless!

A little boy was walking on an empty road;
Wind, just enough to romance with his hair;
The skies aflame with the setting sun;
Indulged in the multitude of his thoughts and
a hint of smile decorating his face.
Content with moving his feet slowly and slowly.
Oh, but we always want more don’t we?
There’s always that voice.
This time, a voice was coming from miles up ahead,
that’s what he thought.
He ran, ran and ran thinking that
he finally found someone to share his tears that never really saw the light.
Finally when he thought he is there, it just faded.
He still kept running and running but,
there’s always a rock to wake us up.
The earth tripped him over.
Tears ran down his skin for the first time.
He took a glance around himself
and when he found himself achingly alone in that empty road,
he wiped the mud off his clothes,
and rose.
He looked up at the sky
and saw the clouds smile at him.
He smiled back and continued his journey.

PS: I am not saying that we should march on this journey of life alone but we should not just leave our path and run towards anything that seems appealing. Verify before trusting anyone because a trust once broken hurts more than anything.

“They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don’t think it’s possible for you to miss me as much as I’m missing you right now”

― Edna St. Vincent Millay

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“The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see–the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.”